Requiem

This is crushing. Long Wongs was my favorite place to spend an afternoon instead of going to highschool, or get a pitcher after work, or watch bluegrass every Sunday night. Home to the Refreshments, Gin Blossoms, Dead Hot Workshop and the best hot wings. I want to cry when I think back to beautiful Saturdays spent on the “new” Mill Avenue, bouncing from coffee house to shop to bar, largely unsatisfied by offerings until I hit Long Wongs. This was an island of something true and fun and diverse in a city that will soon be nothing but a big strip mall. You could sit next to pierced chicks in wife beaters, a Birkenstock-wearing gay couple, the musician up next on stage or a quiet group of tubby Navajos any day. Now the only place you’ll find anyone but a blonde Abercrombie model near Mill will be sleeping in an alley. There’s talk of a new LW opening in its place, but it won’t be the same without the graffiti or the cave-like dark or that sourceless smell that hovered on busy nights. This is the death of Tempe, and while it ain’t really my problem anymore it’s just one more thing I don’t have waiting for me at home.

Bye Long Wongs

Republic’s goodbye

Another

Props to Catfish for sending me the articles.

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